What Has Passed
by SantaClaustrophobia
Summary: Sirius Black muses on his past and his relationship with Harry as he waits for sleep to claim him. One-shot. My first fanfic, please R&R! I need all the constructive criticism I can get.


  
  
Disclaimer: I hate to have to admit it, but I DO NOT own any of the characters in Harry Potter. Those are solely J. K. Rowling's creations. Although I do wish I owned Sirius...

Sirius Black lay on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling. He saw the full moon rise out of the corner of his eye, through the small window in the room. He smiled sadly and wondered how Remus was and what he was doing. Stretching his weary limbs, he placed his entwined fingers on the pillow, and lay his head on top of them. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, just lying there, reflecting on the events of the day. Harry had returned back to Hogwarts for his fifth year today. Sirius had acted like a fool, and he knew it. Dumbledore had told him not to leave number 12, Grimmauld Place, and he let his emotions get the better of him, taking his chance and leaving the house as the big black dog that was his Animagus form, against the protests of Molly Weasley. A small smile crossed his lips at the thought of that stubborn woman. She could definitely get on his bad side rather quickly, but, he had to admit, he admired how much she cared about Harry. Almost as much as he did.

He honestly wished he could've been there for Harry as he was growing up. It wasn't his fault that that bastard Peter had gone and betrayed all of his friends, blamed the deaths of the James and Lily on Sirius, and went into hiding like the coward he was. It wasn't his fault he was sent to Azkaban. Sirius winced, thinking about how terrible it had been in there, and how he had barely stayed sane, clinging to the knowledge that he was completely innocent. He had a godson who had probably heard that his godfather was responsible for the deaths of his parents, the two people that Sirius had merely been trying to protect. He had to prove to Harry that he was not a completely terrible person. That thought, neither happy nor sad, had managed to give him the strength to escape from Azkaban. That's what nobody truly understood. And while Molly thought she cared for Harry more, she did not realize that Harry had, in a way, saved Sirius from a terrible fate he did not deserve, and that Sirius owed Harry more than he knew.

Sirius kept trying to hide from the fact that, in the back of his head, a terrible voice kept trying to work its way into his conscious thoughts: that Sirius WAS partly responsible for the deaths of James and Lily. He tried to push it deeper and deeper into the recesses of his brain, but it kept leaking out, spilling over any happiness he might have at the moment. HE was the one who had persuaded Lily and James to switch Secret-Keepers...if only he would've realized his mistake at the time. Peter was weak, easily intimidated, but Sirius reasoned that his blind loyalty to James and the rest of his friends would somehow win out against any inclination in his feeble mind to give in to Voldemort- that Peter would rather die than betray his friends. But he was wrong, and because of his mistake, two of his best friends were dead.

Sirius blinked several times as tears gathered in his eyes. He didn't want to cry, but a few of the tears escaped and slid down the sides of his cheeks. He hurriedly wiped his face with his torn shirtsleeve. James and Lily were gone and there was no way he could bring them back, even as much as he wanted to. At least he still had Remus. He could feel fresh rage at Peter bubble up in his chest. Because of the damn traitor, even Remus had doubted Sirius's innocence. Sirius thought back to what happened in the Shrieking Shack in Harry's third year. What Harry had said about James not wanting the two of them to become murderers for his sake was true, and Sirius and Remus hadn't killed Peter out of respect for Harry's request, but if Sirius ever had another chance to kill the bastard, he wouldn't hesitate.

And that brought Sirius back to Harry. He loved Harry like a son, a brother, and a friend, all mixed together. He was so much like James- the same tousled black hair, same skill at Quidditch, not to mention the same brave, reckless spirit. Sirius was rather sore at the fact that Harry had had to go back to Hogwarts, but at the same time, felt bad for thinking it. He was so happy that Harry spent much of the summer with him, but he couldn't be selfish. Dumbledore could offer him much more safety at Hogwarts than Sirius could here. And Sirius cared more for Harry's safety and happiness than his own selfish hopes. He would die before letting anything happen to Harry. Besides, he planned on visiting Harry somehow during the school year, even though it would have to be without the knowledge of Molly, Remus, or, most especially, Dumbledore. He was sure Harry would agree to meet him at Hogsmeade on a weekend. Most importantly, Harry knew the truth, and that was all that mattered in the end. He smiled as he rolled over on his side and finally closed his eyes. He had missed 13 years of Harry's life, and he knew that now he would finally be able to watch him grow up. He would be able to spend the rest of his life with his godson. For the first time that day, Sirius Black's mind was at rest, and he was able to drift off to sleep.


End file.
